Wow, i didn't think that last chapter was THAT bad! hahahaha LOL. well i'm gonna keep posting anyway. cause i'm a stubborn-ass bitch. :P

I offered to help you... You refused to take our money. Then I said: I guess you're really up Shit Creek - The Blues Brothers

(26)

Jazz was one persistent son of a bitch, I'd give him that. He'd let me sleep well past two hours, and I then had to rush like mad shit to get cleaned up for work, with him trailing around behind me in mech and holo forms, trying to convince me otherwise. I finally had to round on him and tell him to more or less piss off. I understood where he was coming from, he was just being protective and all… but goddamn it, I've been a grown girl for a long time and I can bloody well take care of myself, and something as small as a fender bender (sort of) wasn't about to stop me from getting my shit done. I told him the same, and he thought otherwise. It was the first time we yelled at each other.

I took a cab to work.

There were a few questions and more than few strange looks throughout my shift, the most adamant being from the manager (who threatened to take out the 'bastard who hit me' til I told him to take it up with the lamp post on Fifth…) and the red-headed waitress with the weird looking motorcycle who I hadn't learned the name of yet. I supposed the big purple bruise on my forehead helped wrench sympathy-money from the customers, and I wasn't about to refuse it. I had a car to fix now.

Jazz was waiting for me outside when my shift was over, idling under a street lamp so I'd be sure to see him. I slumped against the wall, groaning. Great. The boss had offered me a ride and now I'd have to tell him 'no'… because if I didn't, I'd have one pissed off Autobot sitting in my garage. Just fucking great.

So I made my excuses to the boss, telling him a buddy just got here and I'd be gettin' home with them, and wordlessly climbed into the idling Autobot. Jazz's hologram was scowling out the window at my boss, who looked a little doubtful again that my bruising came from a car accident. I smiled and waved as gaily as I could just to relieve him a little bit and he seemed to believe it enough to get into his own car.

As Jazz burnt rubber out of the small parking lot I had to smile a little to myself, thinking about my new co-workers. The job itself may suck, but the people were already pretty fun to work with, and even after only two shifts, I'd found a couple that I'd not mind sharing a beer with sometime. The possibility of quitting the pre-bake warehouse gig seemed more and more doable if things kept going the way they were at the bar.

Despite Jazz's silent displeasure permeating his interior, I found myself soothed by the rhythmic sway of him and the low music he had playing, not to mention his comfortable seats, and conked out before we'd gotten halfway home.

I didn't wake up again til noon, and that was only because Mikaela burnt something in the kitchen and set off the smoke detector. Idly wondering how the hell I got upstairs and under my blankets, I shuffled my ass into the kitchen, still wearing last night's clothes and my aviators, and beheld my sister frantically waving smoke out the window with a tea towel.

"Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!"

"And here I thought you knew how to cook." I said, plopping onto one of the barstool-style chairs and watching with a tired grin as my sister kept waving the towel around and coughing.

"I…cough…wanted to…hack… make breakfast." She said guiltily. So while she kept waving smoke out I lit a few candles to get rid of the smell, took a couple painkillers, and then helped her with the inevitable fallback breakfast: pancakes. We giggled at her cooking skills throughout breakfast and talked about work. I kept the shitty parts to myself and told her a bit about my coworkers, and she excitedly told me about meeting up with Sam this afternoon. I grinned… she was so totally in love with that kid, it was really sweet. I envisioned wedding bells and nieces and nephews in the future, all with a big yellow 'uncle' to watch over them. Little boys with Mikki's blue eyes and Sam's scruffy hair running around asking for 'Uncle B.B.' I mentally wibbled.

Mikaela sent me off like a nagging mother telling me to shower and get changed before I scared the neighbours, and cleaned up the kitchen herself, much to my gratitude.

And yes, I had noticed the new Autobot roommate hadn't made his usual morning (err, afternoon) appearance as of yet, but at the moment, I didn't care. If he was going to sit there in a snit because I had to actually work for a living, he could just stay that way. With all the shit going on this week the last thing I wanted to worry about is the pouting Autobot who just couldn't seem to get… ahhh, hell with it.

By the time I was back out in the kitchen, clean and relatively human looking, Mikaela'd finished tidying up and was chilling out reading a chemistry textbook. "When's the final?"

"Wednesday." She answered without looking up.

"Anything before that?"

She shook her head. "I think the new guys are gonna show up soon too, so I wanna get some studying in before then."

Smart girl. Hell, if they did show up, and if I were in her position, there's no goddamn way I'd be able to focus on studying.

She took a sip from her empty cup of coffee, frowned and got up to refill, "Speaking of Autobots…" She trailed off when she got a good look at me and grinned, "You look like you got half a frowny face on your forehead."

Note to self: Find your bandana. Or just stay in all day. "Get me a marker and I'll put a couple eyeballs up there…" I poured us both coffee and sat with her a moment. "So when you meetin' up with Captain Underpants?"

Mikaela's head dropped into her textbook. "Oh god, I almost forgot about that! Now I'm gonna be picturing him in his boxers all day."

"Like that's a bad thing?" I teased. She flicked an elastic band at me. "So…?"

"In about twenty minutes." She stopped, took a sip of her coffee, and grinned evilly at me. "So, you gonna talk to Mr. Boneable today?"

I'm sure they could hear the thwack of my head hitting the table in New York. It didn't help the bruising one bit either. "Owfuck."

Mikaela grinned but didn't let me distract her. "Cause, you know, I'm not deaf, and you two squabble like old people. Don't think I haven't noticed him pouting in the living room all morning…"

A very stringent voice bellowed "I'm not pouting!" from the living room, and Mikaela smirked.

"Are too!" She called back.

"Am not!"

She waved dismissively and continued, "So whatever the hell you two are arguing about, get the hell over it."

"We're not arguing. He's just being a bitch."

"Hey!"

"You are!"

"I AM NOT!" Jazz's holo fizzled into life right behind me, livid. "You're just bein' stubborn." A finger poked me in the shoulder.

"No, I'm being realistic; it's YOU that's being stubborn." I spun in my chair to face him, and paused. "When the hell did you get dreadlocks?"

The unexpected question threw him off and he made the most ridiculous mid-breath-for-a-yell face, then he deflated. And somehow he still looked good. The new 'do suited him, long dreads half tied back, the rest dangling over his shoulders… Rawr! If I had any weakness with men's hair, it was dreadlocks. Damn him. How the hell am I supposed to be pissy with him when he looks lickable!

My sister's annoyingly smug grin got me back on track. "Uhh, never mind that." Resist grabbing his hair and fondling it. Resist! "The world doesn't stop cause I got a headache."

"YA WRAPPED YER CAR AROUND A LAMP POST!" Jazz nearly yelled, making Mikaela jump and me to stand.

"You're exaggerating!"

He poked me in the forehead and I winced. "Is that exaggeratin'?"

"It's just a bruise!"

Mikaela huffed. "Oh for god's sake, will you two just bone and get it over with!"

The kitchen went dead silent as Jazz and I turned incredulous stares over to my fuming sister.

For a moment, all we did is stare… then Jazz looked at me, I looked at him, and we both smiled.

At least there's one thing we can agree on…

"Why, you wanna tape it?" Jazz asked Mikki.

I pretended to think really hard. "I think I have a video camera in my room somewhere…"

"Oooh, and Bee has that collection of 70's porn soundtracks…"

I addressed Mikaela, "When's he showin' up again?"

HONK!

Jazz and I grinned wider, much to Mikaela's horror, and said simultaneously, "There he is!"

"Noooo!"

…It's unfailingly amusing to watch my sister flee.

"Whaaaat? It was your idea!"

She grabbed her purse and was out of the kitchen, streaking for the door in seconds. Me and Jazz had a good laugh for about half a minute before we realized we were now alone together.

Suddenly very uncomfortable, with our proximity to each other (nearly chest to chest from our arguing) and really not wanting to start yelling again, I turned away and grabbed up my coffee. I heard him sigh behind me.

Without a word to each other we went our separate ways, him to… where ever he went, me to my study.

If there was one safe haven in this joint, it was my study. Dimly lit, furnished with a comfy couch and a good reading chair, and walls stacked high with everything from physics textbooks to erotic fiction, it was the only room I could just completely relax in. It even had a bar fridge in the corner. It was my hidey hole. I shut the door tightly behind me, put my coffee down, slammed a mix tape of bluesy stuff into the player, and slumped in my reading chair.

Hell, I couldn't even really remember why I was mad. Mostly cause Jazz was being pissy and unreasonable….and I knew damn well I was over-reacting to it. I knew myself well enough to know I was hot-tempered little bitch sometimes… and the most reaction Jazz's over-protectiveness should have garnered was maybe extreme annoyance, but goddamn it, I'd been taking care of myself just fine for the past, oh, 20+ years, and now, what, some dude I barely know is crawling up my ass if I get a booboo? Uh uh, don't think so. He'd been on my ass all week and it frayed my last nerve to have him bitch at me all the fuckin' time.

Ahhhh, quit thinking about it and read something.

I leaned over, blasted my music, and grabbed the nearest book…then sent it flying when Jazz burst into the room.

"I'm so not finished with you yet." He announced, arms already starting to cross.

He… just… fuckin… "What the… get the hell outta my study, man!"

The door slammed behind him. "No. We're havin' it out, right now."

"Uh uh, we ain't havin' shit, I'm gonna sit here and enjoy my day off, you're gonna get the hell out of here and do…whatever the hell you do. Go. Shoot Decepticons or something." I emphasized my point by opening another book and settling in for a good grudge-read.

When my book was yanked out of my hands and sent to join its brother somewhere across the room, I gave up. "I seem to remember agreeing that I have you for the day."

Oh, no he didn't. "First of all, I'm not to be 'had', and second, I think you reneged on that bargain when you didn't wake me up after the allotted time." I said calmly… mostly just to piss him off. If there was anything I hated when I was arguing with someone was when the other was acting calm and reasonable when I was pissing mad…

It worked.

Jazz slammed his hands on the arms of my chair and hovered dangerously above me, scowling. "Why are you such a stubborn-ass bitch?"

Ooooooh, okay… "Why are you such a persistent fucking bastard?"

"It's my job!"

"Horseshit, your job is my sister, not me. Back the fuck off."

"And part of watching out for your sister is makin' sure YOU'RE healthy enough to do the same!"

"I'm fine dammit!" But I could see his point.

He poked me in the head again and I slapped his hand away. "Quit that."

"You're not fine."

I growled. This was going nowhere, and it felt like we were just yelling at each other for the sake of yelling. I took a deep breath and felt the tension slowly flow out. Now was not the time to be blindly pissed.

"Jazz. I've been doing this for years. You know how much school costs? You know the kind of hours I had to work just so I could pay for it? Add on the hours for actual studying? Shit, I used to get a max of maybe 4 hours of sleep a night, if I was lucky. I'm used to this…" I trailed off, grinning. "Well, I was used to it. Been a while. But I'll adjust again. I'm tired now, but in two weeks, it'll be like normal."

Jazz deflated and slumped onto the couch. "That's not what's buggin' me right now. It's that big ol' bruise on yer forehead."

"That'll heal."

His hands fisted on the leather. "That's not what I meant."

"I know. Just said it to piss you off."

He chucked a pillow at me. "Bitch."

"Seriously, when'd you get dreads?"

"This mornin'." He replied, seamlessly blending into the new line of convo.

"No shit. I just didn't know you could, ya know, manipulate your holo like that."

"Girl, I could look like Agent Smith if I wanted to." As I watched in amazement, his entire body shimmered, shifted, and reformed into… fucking Hugo Weaving, full with suit. "Mr. Anderson!"

I slammed my eyes shut. "Ahh! NO! Put it away! Put it away!"

Jazz laughed and when I opened my eyes he was back to normal, in a crouch in front of my chair. I poked him in the chest. "Don't. Ever. Do that again." I shuddered. "Dude looks like a half melted circus clown."

Mid-laughing fit he nabbed up the hand I poked him with and fairly tugged me off the chair. I got the idea and settled on the floor with him, just enjoying the holoform's laughter. He really just so goddamn pretty.

He yanked me almost right onto his lap, and if it were any other situation I'd have…well… "C'mere, stupid."

"Stupid?!" I half-heartedly argued, smiling.

"Shaddap." His arms came around my waist and shoulders and I settled in between his legs laying my head on his shoulder. Gods, this was nice. No uncomfortable apologies, no arguing, just… layin' here. Jazz made a great pillow.

"Can you even feel me?" I asked out of pure curiousity. It'd never been said aloud, and hell, if he did, that opened a whoooooole lot of opportunities. I mentally cackled.

Smart ass that he was, Jazz replied in Terminator voice. "I feel everything."

"Weiner." The resulting squeeze made me spew some weird sounding 'blegh' that got Jazz laughing again.

"You humans make the funniest sounds."

"I'm not a bagpipe, you overgrown vacuum cleaner."

"Don't make me expound on my suction capabilities."

"I refuse to comment on the grounds that I might get squished."

"Hey! And just what are you implying?" I got a firm shake.

That went on for a few minutes, accentuated by many slurpy noises just to rile the poor guy up and the many ways he could squish me should I choose to leave the study anytime soon.

Eventually though, we got back to what we were arguing about, but this time, much more civilized.

"As much as I'd love to just sit here and get pampered by a good lookin' holoform all week, I can't." I tried a different approach. "Try to see it this way… one day some hot-ass female Autobot with a big ghetto booty comes along, wraps you around her little finger, and says 'Oh Jazz, why don't you quit the army and play with me all day?'… could you just up and drop all your duties like that? Despite the consequences?"

"Flattering as that was, I ain't no hot Autobot femme with a ghetto booty."

I poked him in the belly. "You know what I meant, bonehead."

"So, could I drop everything I've fought for in a war that's lasted millennia because someone asked me to?"

"Yeah."

"No."

"Even if it was detrimental to your physical and mental health, which for obvious reasons, it is?"

Again, he replied without hesitation, "Nope."

"And I can't do it either. I got responsibilities now. I got a teenager to raise and watch out for, an enormous warehouse to pay for, food to buy, and now a goddamn car to fix. I cannot afford to wuss out because of a few boo boos and some lost sleep. Nobody else is gonna do it for me. Might not be as big and important to you as a war, but it's important to me."

Jazz sighed. We'd adjusted position so he was leaning against the couch and I against the chair with our legs tangled, giving each other foot massages. He had nice feet, and it was easier to be reasonable when the other person was in that 'ahhh, that feels good' happy mode.

He suddenly dropped my foot and leaned forward. "Okay, we gotta make a deal or somethin', cause… shit, I know where yer comin' from… if it were me takin' care of Bee, I'd do the same thing. But I'd have backup in Prime and th' others. Where's yours?"

And here's where my 'I am woman, hear me roar' independent streak came in and bowled over all reason. "I don't need backup, Jazz. I've been doin' this for years."

"Whether ya think ya need it or not, you got it. You ain't Superwoman."

My shoulder slumped in defeat. Ugh. Fine. "Brat."

Jazz grinned victoriously and resumed the foot massage.

"But with one condition."

My foot dropped again.

"Ow. I won't have you hovering around like a mother-hen. I'm a grown girl and I can take my fair share of abuse. I don't need ya jumpin' in unless it's life, limb or mental health endangerment."

"Fine, but I get ta decide when you've had enough. No more smacking into things and goin' to work after."

"As long as you remember that we're a resilient bunch of squishy organics and it takes a lot for it to be 'enough'."

Jazz, hopefully recognizing he couldn't win, merely frowned and nodded. I tried again. "How about this… If Ironhide was watchin' yer ass, and not in that nice yummy way either, he'd know how much you can take and let you do your thing, right?"

He grinned at the 'yummy way' reference. "Yeah."

"Like that." I paused. "Use that big over-protective thing on Mikaela all you want though." I said with a grin.

"Shit, that girl'd kick my ass harder than you do."

"Yeah, but she's the youngest, so we get to be all motherly outta principle."

That ended up being the end of negotiations, as Jazz once again dropped my foot and hauled himself up. "Can't make no deal without either a handshake or a beer. And I wanna try that beer."

Oh man… "Your funeral."

Jazz dug a couple long-necks out of the fridge and popped the caps on em both, handing me one. "To stifling overprotection of brunette minors."

I laughed and clinked bottles with him. "Cheers."

He took a sip, and his face suddenly twisted into revulsion and the beer reluctantly slid down his throat. He started coughing. "Ugh! How the Pit do you drink this shit?"

"Wuss."

I enjoyed my beer and Jazz nursed his coffee for the next little while, argument settled, B.B. King singing in the background, discussing the differences between human intoxicants and the Cybertronian equivalent and their after effects, and I promised myself that I just HAD to see these guys drunk after Jazz told me Ratchet had a habit of breaking into song when he was 'overcharged'…

"Another day, my friend, do not take too much for granted. Make sure the enemy is stone dead before you make a fire!"

Frenzy had been recording for the past hour, entertained beyond belief at the stories the elder told the circle of attentive younglings. They were childish stories, meant to teach the little ones lessons, but they were told in such a way that it entertained even an alien being older than this entire species. Frenzy himself liked the Rabbit tales best, stories of the smallest being outwitting the bigger, more violent Bear, Wolf, Cougar…

'Frenzy: Report.'

The voice of his creator nearly startled him out of his disguise, but luckily the humans were too embroiled in the stories to take any notice of the near unnoticeable twitch in the tiny CD player behind them. Frenzy sent waves of anxiety through their bond, in his own way letting Soundwave know he scared the slag out of him and nearly got him caught.

'Listening to stories at the human settlement.'

Frenzy felt the mild amusement through the bond. Soundwave would never say it, but Frenzy knew the big mech, to use a human expression, got a kick out of Frenzy's weekly excursions. 'Return. I require assistance.'

'Rumble?'

'Ravage.'

'What the Pit did that four-legged cretin get himself into this time?' Frenzy had no choice but to stay put for just a little longer, the humans were still in story-telling mode and would definitely notice if he transformed and skittered off. He told his Creator as much and felt the resulting impatience.

He ignored it and focused back on the story. It would be the last time he'd get to indulge anyway, so Frenzy decided to enjoy it to its fullest.

It was yet another story of the meek defeating the arrogant and powerful. Frenzy enjoyed these stories best and settled in for a good listen, hoping that Barricade would enjoy these tales as well.

It took a half hour for the humans to finish their stories, and another half hour for all the younglings to clear (or rather, be cleared from) the room. Once they were all gone it was just Frenzy and the old male human, who, to Frenzy's boosted nervousness, was staring at him with a little smile.

The elder, wrapped in a white blanket, slowly got to his feet with a groan, picked up his cup of steaming liquid and took a sip. "Ahhh, this is some good tea."

'Is he talking to me?' Frenzy wasn't stupid; he stayed still, betraying nothing.

The elder shuffled around, taking his time folding blankets, taking sips of his 'tea', occasionally casting meaningful glances in Frenzy's direction, dark brown eyes sparkling with…something. He looked very pleased, if Frenzy was interpreting the wrinkled countenance correctly.

Once the room was clean, the elder gradually walked over to the table Frenzy was 'hiding' on, and placed the pile of blankets down next to him. Frenzy didn't know what to do. The elder knew something was up, but he hadn't made any moves against the little mech, didn't acknowledge the fact that he KNEW Frenzy was not what he looked like… so Frenzy didn't make a move in return, though it took a lot of self-control not to transform and run back to Soundwave.

The elder just stood there for a moment, gazing at Frenzy with that little smile, as if waiting. When Frenzy didn't do what the male likely expected, the human shook his head a little, chuckled deeply, and withdrew something from within the blanket.

"Fine, you don't want to talk." A large brown hand reached patted Frenzy's left speaker. Frenzy tried not to quiver.

The old man seemed to know it. "I know you like Wâpos stories the best." His other hand placed something on top of the pile of blankets, and then he took a step back. Wise eyes took in Frenzy's form, frail body giving off a feeling of regret. "I won't be seeing you again, will I? That's a shame."

From his voice alone, Frenzy almost couldn't resist transforming and making himself known to the old human. But he knew better. Paranoia won out, and he remained still.

The old man sighed heavily and turned away, finally going to the door. Before he left though, the old man looked over his shoulder at Frenzy, smiled, and said, "Good luck, little Rabbit,", then disappeared through the door, letting it click shut behind him.

Frenzy stayed put for another couple of minutes, afraid that the old man would come back, or one of the younglings would sneak in. They didn't. He scanned the building and the only signal he got was the old man, all the way on the other side of the house, so he felt safe enough to move…

The old man had left something, perched on top of the blankets. Frenzy let one of his arms free and reached out, stretching as far as he could to get it. His long metal fingers brushed something… he gripped it and brought it down in front of him.

It was a little wooden carving of a rabbit, with something in its mouth and held in its front paws… Frenzy remembered one of the stories; a rabbit smoked a pipe all calmly while he was being hunted by the cougar… it was one of his favourites. Calmness, rational thinking…

Frenzy transformed completely, held the little carving up closer, and inspected it. It had traces of the old man all over it… it was made recently, and it warmed Frenzy's spark to know it was made especially for him.

Yes, humans were definitely worthy of respect sometimes. Frenzy held the little gift close and escaped through the window, but not before leaving a very noticeable dent in the blankets to show that yes, he did get it. It was all he could do.

He'd have to show this to Barricade.

a/n: the image of that little elder wrapped up in a blankie talking to a sentient radio makes me squee all the time.